.LFRED 
ENNYSON 


THE  1  IBRARY 


[HE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CAL IFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


Tennyson 

From  the  etching  "by  Raj  on 


LITTLE** 
JOURNEYS 

to  the  Homes  of 
ENGLISH 
AUTHORS 

QWfreb 

Written  by  ELBERT 
HUBBARD  and  done 
into  a  Printed  Book  by 
the  ROYCROFTERS  at 
their  Shop,  which  is  in 
EAST  AURORA,  Erie 
Co.,  New  York,  U.  S.  A. 

A.  D.  &  &   19O1 


Copyright,  1900,  by  Elbert  Hubbard. 


111  r,Q-i  . 

JLJLJLcf«7j, 


Not  of  the  sunlight, 
Not  of  the  moonlight, 
Nor  of  the  starlight ! 
O  young  Mariner, 
Down  to  the  haven, 
Call  your  companions, 
Launch  your  vessel, 
And  crowd  your  canvas, 
And  ere  it  vanishes 
Over  the  margin, 
After  it,  follow  it, 
Follow  the  Gleam. 
—Merlin. 


ALFRED  TENNYSON 


|H£  grandfather  of  Tennyson  had  two  ALFRED 
sons,  the  elder  boy,  according  to  Mr.  TENNYSON 
Clement  Scott,  being  "  both  willful  and 
commonplace."  Now,  of  course,  the 
property  and  honors  and  titles,  accord- 
ing to  the  Law  of  England,  would  all 
gravitate  to  the  commonplace  boy ;  and 
the  second  son,  who  was  competent,  du- 
tiful and  worthy,  would  be  out  in  the  cold 
world — simply  because  he  was  accident- 
ally born  second  and  not  first.  It  was 
not  his  fault  that  he  was  born  second, 
and  it  was  in  no  wise  to  the  credit  of 
the  other  that  he  was  born  first. 
So  the  father,  seeing  that  the  elder  boy 
had  small  executive  capacity,  and  no 
appreciation  of  a  Good  Thing,  disinher- 
ited him,  giving  him,  however,  a  gener- 
ous allowance,  but  letting  the  titles  go 
to  the  second  boy,  who  was  bright  and 
brave  and  withal  a  right  manly  fellow. 
if  Personally  I  'm  glad  the  honors  went 
to  the  best  man.  But  Hallam  Tennyson, 
son  of  the  Poet,  sees  only  rank  injustice 
in  the  action  of  his  ancestor  who  delib- 
erately set  his  own  opinion  of  right  and 
justice  against  precedent  as  embodied 
in  English  Law  if  As  a  matter  of  strict- 
est justice,  we  might  argue  that  neither 

53 


ALFRED  boy  was  entitled  to  anything  which  he  had  not  earned, 
TENNYSON  and  that,  in  dividing  the  property  between  them,  instead 
of  allowing  it  all  to  drift  into  the  hands  of  the  one 
accidentally  born  first,  the  father  acted  wisely  and  well. 
4T  But  neither  Alfred  nor  Hallam  Tennyson  thought 
so.  How  much  their  opinions  were  biased  by  the  fact 
that  they  were  descendants  of  the  first-born  son,  we 
cannot  say.  Anyway,  the  descendants  of  the  second 
son,  Hon.  Charles  Tennyson  d'Eyncourt,  have  made 
no  protest,  of  which  I  can  learn,  about  justice  having 
been  defeated. 

Considering  this  subject  of  the  Law  of  Entail  one  step 
further,  we  find  that  Hallam,  the  present  Lord  Tenny- 
son, is  a  Peer  of  the  Realm  simply  because  his  father 
was  a  great  poet,  and  honors  were  given  him  on  that 
account  by  the  Queen.  These  honors  go  to  Hallam,  who 
as  all  men  agree,  is  in  many  ways  singularly  like  his 
grandfather. 

Genius  is  not  hereditary,  but  titles  are.  Hallam  is  em- 
inently pleased  with  the  English  Law  of  Entail,  save 
that  he  questions  whether  any  father  has  the  divine 
right  to  divert  his  titles  and  wealth  from  the  eldest 
son.  Lord  Hallam's  arguments  are  earnest  and  well 
expressed,  but  they  seem  to  show  that  he  is  lacking 
in  what  Herbert  Spencer  calls  the  "  value  sense  " — in 
other  words,  the  sense  of  humor. 
Hallam's  lack  of  perspective  is  further  demonstrated 
by  his  patient  efforts  to  explain  who  the  various  Ten- 
nysons  were.  In  my  boyhood  days  I  thought  there 

54 


was  but  one  Tennyson.  On  reading  Hallam's  book,  ALFRED 

however,  one  would  think  there  were  dozens  of  them.  TENNYSON 

To  keep  these  various  men,  bearing  one  name,  from 

being  confused  in  the  mind  of  the  reader,  is  quite  a  task ; 

and  to  better  identify  one  particular  Tennyson,  Hallam 

always  refers  to  him  as  "Father,"  or  "  My  Father." 

In  the  course  of  a  recent  interview  with  Mr.  W.  H. 

Seward,  of  Auburn,  N.  Y.,  I  was  impressed  by  his 

dignified,  respectful  and  affectionate  references 

to"  Seward."  "This  belonged  to  Seward," 

&  "  Seward  told  me," — as  though  there 

were  but  one.  In  these  pages  I  will 

speak  of  Tennyson — there  has 

been  but  one — there  will 

never   be    another. 


55 


ALFRED 
TENNYSON 


THINK  Mr.  Clement  Scott  is  a 
little  severe  in  his  estimate  of 
the  character  of  Tennyson's 
father,  although  the  main  facts 
are  doubtless  as  he  states  them. 
The  Rev.  George  Clayton  Ten- 
nyson, Rector  of  Somersby  and 
Wood  Enderby  parishes,  was  a 
typical  English  parson.  As  a  boy 
he  was  simply  big,  fat  and  lazy.  His  health  was  so 
perfect  that  it  overtopped  all  ambition,  and  having  no 
nerves  to  speak  of,  his  sensibilities  were  very  slight. 
4T  When  he  was  disinherited,  in  favor  of  his  younger 
brother,  a  keen,  nervous,  forceful  fellow,  he  accepted 
it  as  a  matter  of  course.  His  career  was  planned  for 
him :  he  "took  orders,"  married  the  young  woman  his 
folks  selected,  and  slipped  easily  into  his  proper  niche 
— his  adipose  serving  as  a  buffer  for  his  feelings.  In  his 
intellect  there  was  no  flash,  and  his  insight  into  the 
heart  of  things  was  small. 

Being  happily  married  to  a  discreet  woman  who  man- 
aged him  without  ever  letting  him  be  aware  of  it,  and 
having  a  sure  and  sufficient  income,  and  never  know- 
ing that  he  had  a  stomach,  he  did  his  clerical  work, 
(with  the  help  of  a  curate)  and  lived  out  the  measure 
of  his  days,  no  wiser  at  the  last  than  he  was  at  thirty. 
4f  In  passing,  we  may  call  attention  to  the  fact  that 
the  average  man  is  a  victim  of  Arrested  Development, 
and  that  the  fleeting  years  bring  an  increase  of  knowl- 
56 


edge  only  in  very  exceptional  cases.  Health  and  pros-  ALFRED 
perity  are  not  pure  blessings — a  certain  element  of  TENNYSON 
discontent  is  necessary  to  spur  men  on  to  a  higher  life. 
if  Rev.  George  Clayton  Tennyson  had  income  enough 
to  meet  his  wants,  but  not  enough  to  embarrass  him 
with  the  responsibility  of  taking  care  of  it.  Each  quar- 
terly stipend  was  spent  before  it  arrived,  and  the 
family  lived  on  credit  until  another  three  months 
rolled  around.  They  had  roast  beef  as  often  as  they 
wanted  it;  in  the  cellar  were  puncheons,  kegs  and 
barrels,  and  as  there  was  no  rent  to  pay  nor  landlords 
to  appease,  care  sat  lightly  on  the  Rector. 
Elizabeth,  this  man's  wife,  is  worthy  of  more  than  a 
passing  note.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Rev.  Stephen 
Fytche,  vicar  of  Louth.  Her  family  was  not  so  high  in 
rank  as  the  Tennysons,  because  the  Tennysons  be- 
longed to  the  gentry.  But  she  was  intelligent,  amiable, 
fairly  good-looking,  and  being  the  daughter  of  a  clergy- 
man, had  beyond  doubt  a  knowledge  of  clerical  needs ; 
so  it  was  thought  she  would  make  a  good  wife  for  the 
newly  appointed  incumbent  of  Somersby. 
The  parents  arranged  it,  the  young  folks  were  willing, 
and  so  they  were  married — and  the  bridegroom  was 
happy  ever  afterward. 

And  why  should  n't  he  have  been  happy  ?  Surely  no  man 
was  ever  blest  with  a  better  wife  I  He  had  made  a  reach 
into  the  matrimonial  grab-bag  and  drawn  forth  a  jewel. 
This  jewel  was  many-faceted.  Without  affectation  or 
silly  pride,  the  clergyman's  wife  did  the  work  that  God 

57 


ALFRED  sent  her  to  do.  The  sense  of  duty  was  strong  upon  her. 
TENNYSON  Babies  came,  once  each  two  years,  and  in  one  case  two 
in  one  year,  and  there  was  careful  planning  required  to 
make  the  income  reach,  &  to  keep  the  household  in  or- 
der. Then  she  visited  the  poor  and  sick  of  the  parish,  & 
received  the  many  visitors.  And  with  it  all  she  found 
time  to  read.  Her  mind  was  open  and  alert  for  all  good 
things.  I  am  not  sure  that  she  was  so  very  happy, 
but  no  complaints  escaped  her.  In  all  she  bore 
twelve  children,  eight  sons  &  four  daugh- 
ters if  Ten  of  these  children  lived  to 
be  over  seventy-five  years  of  age. 
The  fourth  child  that  came 
to  her  they  named  Alfred. 


ENNYSON'S  education  in  early  ALFRED 
youth  was  very  slight.  His  father  TENNYSON 
laid  down  rules  and  gave  out  les- 
sons, but  the  strictness  of  disci- 
pline never  lasted  more  than  two 
days  at  a  time.  The  children  ran 
wild  and  roamed  the  woods   of 
Lincolnshire  in  search  of  all  the 
curious  things  that  the  woods  hold 


in  store  for  boys  *f  The  father  occasionally  made  stern 
efforts  to  "correct"  his  sons.  In  use  of  the  birch  he 
was  ambi-dextrous.  But  I  have  noticed  that  in  house- 
holds where  a  strap  hangs  behind  the  kitchen  door, 
for  ready  use,  it  is  not  utilized  so  much  for  pure  disci- 
pline as  to  ease  the  feelings  of  the  parent.  They  say 
that  expression  is  a  need  of  the  human  heart ;  and  I 
am  also  convinced  that  in  many  hearts  there  is  a  very 
strong  desire  at  times  to  "thrash"  someone.  Who  it 
is  makes  little  difference,  but  children  being  helpless 
and  the  law  giving  us  the  right,  we  find  gratification 
by  falling  upon  them  with  straps,  birch  rods,  slippers, 
ferules,  hair  brushes  or  apple  tree  sprouts. 
No  student  of  pedagogics  now  believes  that  the  free 
use  of  the  rod  ever  made  a  child  "  good  ";  but  all  agree 
that  it  has  often  served  as  a  safety  valve  for  a  pent  up 
emotion  in  the  parent  or  teacher. 
The  father  of  Alfred  Tennyson  applied  the  birch,  and 
the  boy  took  to  the  woods,  moody,  resentful,  solitary. 
There  was  good  in  this,  for  the  lad  learned  to  live 

59 


ALFRED  within  himself,  and  to  be  self-sufficient :  to  love  the 
TENNYSON  solitude,  and  feel  a  kinship  with  all  the  life  that  makes 
the  groves  and  fields  melodious. 

In  1828,  when  nineteen  years  of  age,  Alfred  was  sent 
to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  He  remained  there  three 
years,  but  left  without  a  degree,  and  what  was  worse 
— with  the  ill-will  of  his  teachers,  who  seemed  to  re- 
gard his  a  hopeless  case.  He  would  n't  study  the  books 
they  wanted  him  to,  and  was  never  a  candidate  for 
academic  distinctions. 

College  life,  however,  has  much  to  recommend  it  be- 
side the  curriculum.  At  Cambridge,  Tennyson  made  the 
acquaintanceship  of  a  group  of  young  men  who  influ- 
enced his  life  profoundly.  Kemble,  Mimes,  Brook- 
field  &  Spedding  remained  his  life-long  friends ; 
and  as  all  good  is  reciprocal,  no  man  can 
say  how  much  these   eminent  men 
owe  to  the  moody  and  melan- 
choly   Tennyson,    or    how 
much  he  owes  to  them. 


60 


ENNYSON  began  to  write  verse 
very  young.  His  first  line  is  said 
to  have  been  written  at  five  and 
he  has  told  of  going  when  thirteen 
years  of  age  to  visit  his  grand- 
father, and  of  presenting  him  a 
poem.  The  old  gentleman  gave 
him  half  a  guinea  with  the  remark, 
"This  is  the  first  money  you  ever 
made  by  writing  poetry,  and  take  my  word  for  it,  it 
will  be  the  last ! "  When  eighteen  years  of  age,  with 
his  brother,  Charles,  he  produced  a  thin  book  of  thin 
verses. 

We  have  the  opinion  of  Coleridge  to  the  effect  that 
the  only  lines  which  have  any  merit  in  the  book,  are 
those  signed  C.  T.  jf  Charles  became  a  clergyman  of 
marked  ability,  married  rich,  and  changed  his  name 
from  Tennyson  to  Turner  for  economic  and  domestic 
reasons.  Years  afterward,  when  Alfred  had  become 
Poet  Laureate,  rumor  has  it  he  thought  of  changing 
the  "Turner"  back  to  "Tennyson,"  but  was  unable 
to  bring  it  about. 

The  only  honor  captured  by  Alfred  at  Cambridge  was 
a  prize  for  his  poem,  "Timbuctoo."  The  encourage- 
ment that  this  brought  him,  backed  up  by  Arthur  Hal- 
lam's  declaiming  the  piece  in  public — as  a  sort  of  defi 
to  detractors — caused  him  to  fix  his  attention  more 
assiduously  on  verse.  He  could  write — it  was  the  only 
thing  he  could  do — and  so  he  wrote. 

61 


ALFRED 

TENNYSON 


ALFRED  At  Cambridge  he  was  in  the  habit  of  reading  his  poetry 
TENNYSON  to  a  little  coterie  called  "The  Apostles,"  and  he 
always  premised  his  reading  with  the  statement  that 
_no  criticism  would  be  acceptable. 
;  The  year  he  was  twenty-one  he  published  a  small 
book  called  "  Poems,  Chiefly  Lyrical."  The  books  went 
a-begging  for  many  years ;  but  times  change,  for  a  copy 
of  this  edition  was  sold  by  Quaritch  in  1895  for  one 
hundred  and  eighty  pounds.  The  only  piece  in  the  book 
that  seems  to  show  genuine  merit  is  "  Mariana." 
Two  years  afterward  a  second  edition,  revised  and 
enlarged,  was  brought  out.  This  book  contains  "  The 
Lady  of  Shalott,"  "The  May  Queen,"  "A  Dream  of 
Fair  Women"  and  "The  Lotus  Eaters." 
Beyond  a  few  fulsome  reviews  from  personal  friends 
and  a  little  surly  mention  from  the  tribe  of  Jeffrey,  the 
volume  attracted  no  attention.  This  coldness  on  the 
part  of  the  public  shot  an  atrabiliar  tint  through  the 
ambition  of  our  poet,  and  the  fond  hope  of  a  success  in 
literature  faded  from  his  mind. 

And  then  began  what  Stopford  Brooke  has  called  "  the 
ten  fallow  years  in  the  life  of  Tennyson. 'f  But  fallow 
years  are  not  all  fallow.  The  dark  brooding  night  is  as 
necessary  for  our  life  as  the  garish  day.  Great  crops 
of  wheat  that  feed  the  nations  grow  only  where  the 
winter's  snow  covers  all  as  with  a  garment.  And  ever 
behind  the  mystery  of  sleep,  and  beneath  the  silence 
of  the  snow,  Nature  slumbers  not  nor  sleeps. 
The  withholding  of  quick  recognition  gave  the  mind  of 
6a 


Tennyson  an  opportunity  to  ripen.  Fate  held  him  in  ALFRED 
leash  that  he  might  be  saved  for  a  masterly  work,  and  TENNYSON 
all  the  time  that  he  lived  in  semi-solitude  and  read  and 
thought  and  tramped  the  fields,  his  soul  was  growing 
strong  and  his  spirit  was  taking  on  the  silken  self-suf- 
ficient strength  that  marked  his  later  days  ff  This 
hiatus  of  ten  years  in  the  life  of  our  poet  is  very  sim- 
ilar to  the  thirteen  fallow  years  in  the  career  of  Brown- 
ing. These  men  crossed  and  re-crossed  each  other's 
pathway,  but  did  not  meet  for  many  years.  What  a 
help  they  might  have  been  to  each  other  in  those  years 
of  doubt  and  seeming  defeat !  But  each  was  to  make 
his  way  alone. 

Browning  seemed  to  grow  through  society  and  travel, 
but  solitude  served  the  needs  of  Tennyson. 
"  There  must  be  a  man  behind  every  sentence,"  said 
Emerson.  After  ten  years  of  silence,  when  Tennyson 
issued  his  book,  the  literary  world  recognized  the  man 
behind  it.  Tennyson  had  grown  as  a  writer,  but  more 
as  a  man.  And  after  all,  it  is  more  to  be  a  man  than  a 
poet  if  All  who  knew  Tennyson,  and  have  written  of 
him,  especially  during  those  early  years,  begin  with  a 
description  of  his  appearance.  His  looks  did  not  belie 
the  man.  In  intellect  and  in  stature  he  was  a  giant.  The 
tall,  athletic  form,  the  great  shaggy  head,  the  classic 
features  and  the  look  of  untried  strength,  were  all 
thrown  into  fine  relief  by  the  modesty,  the  half-em- 
barrassment of  his  manner.^) 

To  meet  the  poet  was  to  acknowledge  his  power.  No 

63 


ALFRED  man  can  talk  as  wise  as  he  can  look,  and  Tennyson 
TENNYSON   never  tried  to.  His  words  were  few  and  simple. 

Those  who  met  him  went  away  ready  to  back  his 
lightest  word.  They  felt  there  was  a  man  behind  the 
sentence. 

Carlyle,  who  was  a  hero-worshipper,  but  who  usually 
limited  his  worship  to  those  well  dead  and  long  gone 
hence,  wrote  of  Tennyson  to  Emerson :  "  One  of  the 
finest  looking  men  in  the  •world.  A  great  shock  of  dusky 
hair ;  bright,  laughing,  hazel  eyes ;  massive  aquiline 
face,  most  massive  yet  most  delicate ;  of  sallow  brown 
complexion,  almost  Indian-looking,  clothes  cynically 
loose,  free-and-easy,  smokes  infinite  tobacco.  His  voice 
is  musical,  metallic,  fit  for  loud  laughter  and  piercing 
wail,  and  all  that  may  lie  between ;  speech  and  specu- 
lation free  and  plenteous ;  I  do  not  meet  in  these  late 
decades  such  company  over  a  pipe !  We  shall  see  what 
he  will  grow  to." 

And  then  again,  writing  to  his  brother  John :  "  Some 
weeks  ago,  one  night,  the  poet  Tennyson  and  Matthew 
Arnold  were  discovered  here  sitting  smoking  in  the 
garden.  Tennyson  had  been  here  before,  but  was  still 
new  to  Jane, — who  was  alone  for  the  first  hour  or  two 
of  it.  A  fine  large  featured,  dim-eyed,  bronze-colored, 
shaggy-headed  man  is  Alfred ;  dusty,  smoky,  free-and- 
easy  ;  who  swims  outwardly  and  inwardly,  with  great 
composure  in  an  articulate  element  as  of  tranquil  chaos 
and  tobacco-smoke ;  great  now  and  then  when  he  does 
emerge ;  a  most  restful,  brotherly,  solid-hearted  man." 
64 


The  "English  Idylls,"  put  forth  in  1842  contained  all  ALFRED 
of  the  poems,  heretofore  published,  that  Tennyson  TENNYSON 
cared  to  retain.  It  must  be  stated  to  the  credit,  or  dis- 
credit, of  America,  that  the  only  complete  editions  of 
Tennyson  were  issued  by  New  York  and  Boston  pub- 
lishers if  These  men  seized  upon  the  immature  early 
poems  of  Tennyson,  and  combining  them  with  his  later 
books,  issued  the  whole  in  a  style  that  tried  men's 
eyes — very  proud  of  the  fact  that  "  this  is  the  only 
complete  edition,"  etc.  Of  course  they  paid  the  author 
no  royalty,  neither  did  they  heed  his  protests,  and  pos- 
sibly all  this  prepared  the  way  for  frosty  receptions  of 
daughters  of  quick  machine-made  American  million- 
aires, who  journeyed  to  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  after  days. 
Soon  after  the  publication  of  "  English  Idylls,"  Alfred 
Tennyson  moved  gracefully,  like  a  ship  that  is  safely 
launched,  into  the  first  place  among  living  poets.  He 
was  then  thirty- three  years  of  age,  with  just  half  a 
century,  lacking  a  few  months,  yet  to  live.  In  all  that 
half  century,  with  its  many  conflicting  literary  judg- 
ments, his  title  to  first  place  was  never  seriously  ques- 
tioned if  Up  to  1842,  in  his  various  letters,  and  through 
his  close  friends,  we  learn  that  Tennyson  was  sore 
pressed  for  funds.  He  had  n't  money  to  buy  books, 
and  when  he  traveled  it  was  through  the  munificence 
of  some  kind  kinsman.  He  even  excuses  himself  from 
attending  certain  social  functions  on  account  of  his 
lack  of  suitable  raiment — probably  with  a  certain  sat- 
isfaction. 

65 


ALFRED  But  when  he  tells  of  his  poverty  to  Emily  Sellwood, 
TENNYSON  the  woman  of  his  choice,  there  is  anguish  in  his  cry. 
In  fact  her  parents  succeeded  in  breaking  off  her  rela- 
tions with  Tennyson  for  a  time,  on  account  of  his  very 
uncertain  prospects.  His  brothers,  even  those  younger 
than  he,  had  slipped  into  snug  positions — "but  Alfred 
dreams  on  with  nothing  special  in  sight."  *sr  Poetry, 
in  way  of  a  financial  return,  is  not  to  be  commended. 
Honors  were  coming  Tennyson's  way  as  early  as  1842, 
but  it  was  not  until  1845,  when  a  pension  of  two  hun- 
dred pounds  a  year  was  granted  him  by  the  Govern- 
ment, that  he  began  to  feel  easy.  Even  then  there  were 
various  old  scores  to  liquidate. 

The  year  1850,  when  he  was  forty-one,  has  been  called 
his  "golden  year,"  for  in  it  occurred  the  publication  of 
"In  Memoriam,"  his  appointment  to  the  post  of  Poet 
Laureate,  and  his  marriage. 

Emily  Sellwood  had  waited  for  him  all  these  years. 
She  had  been  sought  after,  and  had  refused  several 
good  offers  from  eligible  widowers  and  others  who 
pitied  her  sad  plight  and  looked  upon  her  as  an  old 
maid  forlorn.  But  she  was  true  to  her  love  for  Alfred. 
<ff  Possibly  she  had  not  been  courted  quite  so  assidu- 
ously as  Tennyson's  mother  had  been.  When  that  dear 
old  lady  was  past  eighty  she  became  very  deaf,  and 
the  family  often  ventured  to  carry  on  conversations  in 
her  presence  which  possibly  would  have  been  modi- 
fied had  the  old  lady  been  in  full  possession  of  her 
faculties.  On  a  day  as  she  sat  knitting  in  the  chimney 
66 


corner,  one  of  her  daughters  in  a  burst  of  confidence    ALFRED 
to  a  visitor,  said,  "  Why,  before  Mamma  married  Papa    TENNYSON 
she  had  received  twenty-three  offers  of  marriage!" 
If  "Twenty-four,  my  dear, — twenty-four,"  corrected 
the  old  lady  as  she  shifted  the  needles. 
No  one  has  ever  claimed  that  Tennyson  was  an  ideal 
lover.  Surely  he  never  could  have  been  tempted  to  do 
what  Browning  did — break  up  the  peace  of  a  house- 
hold by  an  elopement.  His  love  was  a  thing  of  the 
head,  weighed  carefully  in  the  scales  of  his  judgment. 
His  caution  and  good  sense  saved  him  from  all  Byronic 
excesses,  or  foolish  alliances  such  as  took  Shelley  cap- 
tive. He  believed  in  law  and  order,  and  early  saw  that 
his  interests  lay  in  that  direction.  He  belonged  to  the 
Church  of  England,  &  doubtless  thought  as  he  pleased, 
but  ever  expressed  himself  with  caution. 
It  is  easy  to  accuse  Tennyson  of  being  insular — to  say 
that  he  is  merely  "the  poet  of  England."  Had  he  been 
more  he  would  have  been  less.  World-poets  have 
usually  been  revolutionists,  and  dangerous  men  who 
exploded  at  an  unknown  extent  of  concussion.  None 
of  them  has  been  a  safe  man — none  respectable.  Dante, 
Shakespeare,  Milton,  Hugo  and  Whitman  were  out- 
casts 4T  Tennyson  is  always  serene,  sane  and  safe — 
his  lines  breathe  purity  and  excellence.  He  is  the  poet^ — - 
of  religion,  of  the  home  and  fireside,  of  established 
order,  of  truth,  justice  and  mercy  as  embodied  in  law. 
jf  Very  early  he  became  a  close  personal  friend  of 
Queen  Victoria  and  many  of  his  lines  ministered  to 

67 


ALFRED  her  personal  consolation  *r  For  fifty  years  Tenny- 
TENNYSON  son's  life  was  one  steady,  triumphal  march.  He  ac- 
quired wealth,  such  as  no  other  English  poet  before 
him  had  ever  gained ;  his  name  was  known  in  every 
corner  of  the  earth  where  white  men  journeyed, 
and  at  home  he  was  beloved  and  honored.  He 
died  October  6th,  1892,  aged  eighty-three, 
and  for  him  the  Nation  mourned,  and 
with  deep   sincerity  the   Queen 
spoke  of  his  demise  as  a  poign- 
ant,   personal    sorrow. 


68 


T  was  at  Cambridge  he  met  Arthur  ALFRED 
Hallam— Arthur  Hallam,  immor-  TENNYSON 
tal  and  remembered  alone  for  be- 
ing the  comrade  and  friend  of  Ten- 
nyson. 

Alfred  took  his  friend  Arthur  to 
his  home  in  Lincolnshire  one  va- 
cation, and  we  know  how  Arthur 
became  enamored  of  Tennyson's 


sister  Emily,  and  they  were  betrothed.  Together, 
Tennyson  and  Hallam  made  a  trip  through  France 
and  the  Pyrenees. 

Carlyle  and  Milburn,  the  blind  preacher,  once  sat 
smoking  in  the  little  arbor  back  of  the  house  in  Cheyne 
Row.  They  had  been  talking  of  Tennyson,  and  after  a 
long  silence  Carlyle  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe, 
and  with  a  grunt  said,  "  Ha !  Death  is  a  great  blessing 
— the  joyousest  blessing  of  all  I  Without  death  there 
would  ha'  been  no  '  In  Memoriam,'  no  Hallam,  and 
like  enough  no  Tennyson !"  if  It  is  futile  to  figure 
what  would  have  occurred  had  this  or  that  not  hap- 
pened, since  every  act  of  life  is  a  sequence.  But  that 
Carlyle  and  many  others  believed  that  the  death  of 
Hallam  was  the  making  of  Tennyson,  there  is  no 
doubt.  Possibly  his  soul  needed  just  this  particular 
amount  of  bruising  in  order  to  make  it  burst  into  un- 
dying song — who  knows !  When  Charles  Kingsley  was 
asked  for  the  secret  of  his  exquisite  sympathy  and  fine 
imagination,  he  paused  a  space,  and  then  answered — 

69 


ALFRED  "  I  had  a  friend."  *f  The  desire  for  friendship  is  strong 
TENNYSON  in  every  human  heart.  We  crave  the  companionship 
of  those  who  can  understand.  The  nostalgia  of  life 
presses,  we  sigh  for  "home,"  and  long  for  the  pres- 
ence of  one  who  sympathizes  with  our  aspirations, 
comprehends  our  hopes  and  is  able  to  partake  of  our 
joys.  A  thought  is  not  our  own  until  we  impart  it  to 
another,  and  the  confessional  seems  a  crying  need  of 
every  human  soul. 

One  can  bear  grief  but  it  takes  two  to  be  glad. 
We  reach  the  Divine  through  some  one,  and  by  divid- 
ing our  joy  with  this  one  we  double  it,  and  come  in 
touch  with  the  Universal.  The  sky  is  never  so  blue, 
the  birds  never  sing  so  blithely,  our  acquaintances  are 
never  so  gracious  as  when  we  are  filled  with  love  for 
some  one. 

Being  in  harmony  with  one  we  are  in  harmony  with  all. 
<T  The  lover  idealizes  and  clothes  the  beloved  with  vir- 
tues that  exist  only  in  his  imagination.  The  beloved  is 
consciously  or  unconsciously  aware  of  this, and  endeav- 
ors to  fulfill  the  high  ideal ;  and  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  transcendent  qualities  that  his  mind  has  created, 
the  lover  is  raised  to  heights  otherwise  unattainable. 
<T  Should  the  beloved  pass  from  earth  while  this  con- 
dition of  exaltation  endures,  the  conception  is  indelibly 
impressed  upon  the  soul,  just  as  the  last  earthly  view 
is  said  to  be  photographed  upon  the  retina  of  the  dead. 
The  highest  earthly  relationship  is  in  its  very  essence, 
fleeting,  for  men  are  fallible,  and  living  in  a  world 
70 


where  material  wants  jostle,  and  time  and  change   ALFRED 
play  their  ceaseless  parts,  gradual  obliteration  comes  TENNYSON 
and  disillusion  enters.  But  the  memory  of  a  sweet 
affinity  once  fully  possessed,  and  snapped  by  fate  at 
its  supremest  moment,  can  never  die  from  out  the 
heart.  All  other  troubles  are  swallowed  up  in  this,  and 
if  the  individual  is  of  too  stern  a  fiber  to  be  completely 
crushed  into  the  dust,  time  will  come  bearing  healing, 
and  the  memory  of  that  once  ideal  condition  will  chant 
in  the  heart  a  perpetual  eucharist. 
And  I  hope  the  world  has  passed  forever  from  the 
nightmare  of  pity  for  the  dead :  they  have  ceased  from 
their  labors  and  are  at  rest. 

But  for  the  living,  when  death  has  entered  and  re- 
moved the  best  friend,  fate  has  done  her  worst ;  the 
plummet  has  sounded  the  depths  of  grief,  and  there- 
after nothing  can  inspire  terror.  At  one  fell  stroke  all 
petty  annoyances  and  corroding  cares  are  sunk  into 
nothingness.  <ff  The  memory  of  a  great  love  lives  en- 
shrined in  undying  amber.  It  affords  a  ballast  'gainst 
all  the  storms  that  blow,  and  although  it  lends  an 
unutterable  sadness,  it  imparts  an  unspeakable  peace. 
"Where  there  is  this  haunting  memory  of  a  great  love 
lost,  there  are  always  forgiveness,  charity  and  a  sym- 
pathy that  makes  the  man  brother  to  all  who  suffer 
and  endure.  The  individual  himself  is  nothing :  he  has 
nothing  to  hope  for,  nothing  to  lose,  nothing  to  win, 
and  this  constant  memory  of  the  high  and  exalted 
friendship  that  once  was  his  is  a  nourishing  source  of 

7* 


ALFRED  strength;  it  constantly  purifies  the  mind  and  inspires 
TENNYSON  the  heart  to  nobler  living  and  diviner  thinking.  The 
man  is  in  communication  with  Elemental  Conditions. 
4fTo  know  an  ideal  friendship  and  to  have  it  fade 
from  your  grasp  and  flee  as  a  shadow  before  it  is 
touched  with  the  sordid  breath  of  selfishness,  or 
sullied  by  misunderstanding,  is  the  highest  good.  And 
the  constant  dwelling  in  sweet,  sad  recollection  on  the 
exalted  virtues  of  the  one  that  has  gone,  tends  to  crys- 
talize  these  very  virtues  in  the  heart  of  him  who 
meditates  them  if  The  beauty  with  which  love  adorns 
its  object  becomes  at  last  the  possession  of  the  one 
who  loves. 

At  the  hour  when  the  strong  and  helpful,  yet  tender 
and  sympathetic  friendship  of  Alfred  Tennyson  and 
Arthur  Hallam  was  at  its  height,  there  came  a  brief 
and  abrupt  word  from  Vienna  to  the  effect  that  Arthur 
was  dead. 

In  Vienna's  fatal  walls 

God's  finger  touched  him  and  he  slept ! 

The  shock  of  surprise,  followed  by  dumb,  bitter  grief, 
made  an  impression  on  the  youthful  mind  of  Tenny- 
son that  the  sixty  years  which  followed  did  not  oblit- 
erate if  if 

At  first  a  numbness  and  deadness  came  over  his  spirit, 
but  this  condition  ere  long  gave  way  to  a  sweet  con- 
templation of  the  beauties  of  character  that  his  friend 
possessed,  and  he  tenderly  reviewed  the  gracious 
hours  they  had  spent  together. 
72 


"  In  Memoriam  "  is  not  one  poem ;  it  is  made  up  of  ALFRED 
many  "short  swallow-flights  of  song  that  dip  their  TENNYSON 
wings  in  tears  and  skim  away."  There  are  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty  separate  songs  in  all,  held  together  by 
the  silken  thread  of  love  for  the  poet's  lost  friend. 
4T  Seventeen  years  were  required  for  their  evolution. 
Some  people,  misled  by  the  title,  possibly,  think  of 
these  poems  as  a  wail  of  grief  for  the  dead,  a  vain  cry 
of  sorrow  for  the  lost,  or  a  proud  parading  of  mourning 
millinery.  Such  views  could  not  be  more  wholly  wrong. 
4T  To  every  soul  that  has  loved  and  lost,  to  those  who 
have  stood  by  open  graves,  to  all  who  have  beheld  the 
sun  go  down  on  less  worth  in  the  world,  these  songs 
are  a  victor's  cry.  They  tell  of  love  and  life  that  rise 
phoenix-like  from  the  ashes  of  despair;  of  doubt  turned 
to  faith ;  of  fear  which  has  become  serenest  peace. 
All  poems  that  endure  must  have  this  helpful,  uplifting 
quality.  Without  violence  of  direction  they  must  be 
beacon  lights  that  gently  guide  stricken  men  and 
women  into  safe  harbors. 

The  "Invocation,"  written  nearly  a  score  of  years 
after  Hallam's  death,  reveals  Tennyson's  personal 
conquest  of  pain.  His  thought  has  broadened  from  the 
sense  of  loss  into  a  stately  march  of  conquest  over 
death  for  the  whole  human  race  jf  The  sharpness  of 
grief  has  wakened  the  soul  to  the  contemplation  of 
sublime  ideas — truth,  justice,  nobility,  honor,  and  the 
sense  of  beauty  as  shown  in  all  created  things.  The 
man  once  loved  a  person — now  his  heart  goes  out  to 

73 


ALFRED  the  universe.  The  dread  of  death  is  gone,  and  he  calm- 

TENNYSON  ly  contemplates  his  own  end  and  waits  the  summons 

without  either  impatience  or  fear.  He  realizes  that 

death  itself  is  a  manifestation   of  life — that  it  is  as 

natural  and  just  as  necessary. 

Sunset  and  evening  star 

And  one  clear  call  for  me, 
And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar 

When  I  put  out  to  sea. 

The  desire  for  sympathy  and  the  wish  for  friendship 

are  in  his  heart,  but  the  fever  of  unrest  and  the 

spirit  of  revolt  are  gone.  His  heart,  his 

hope,  his  faith,  his  life,  are  freely  laid 

on  the  altar  of  Eternal  Love. 


74 


SO  HERE  ENDETH  THE  LITTLE  JOURNEY  TO  THE 
HOME  OF  ALFRED  TENNYSON,  AS  WRITTEN  BY  EL- 
BERT  HUBBARD,  THE  TITLE  PAGE,  INITIALS  &  ORNA- 
MENTS BEING  DESIGNED  BY  SAMUEL  WARNER,  AND 
THE  WHOLE  DONE  INTO  A  BOOKLET  BY  THE  ROY- 
CROFTERS  AT  THEIR  SHOP,  WHICH  IS  IN  EAST  AURO- 
RA, IN  THE  MONTH  OF  DECEMBER,  IN  THE  YEAR  MCMI. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  due  oiLtbe.lMt£l£flf$tamped  below. 


Dec  264 


OCT251965 

Bv  • 
Jan  1266 


Km  cot. 
*n-20  '65 

APR271BSS 


15 

Feb  2d' 


E9 


UOV2    '83  14  DAY 


Book  Slip-25m-7,'61  (C1437s4)4280 


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